


can't afford to keep my balance.

by redhoods



Series: elemental structures destined to react. [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A growl rumbles low in Jackson’s throat and he slams the locker shut, whirling around on Stiles, “I’m not having a…a <i>crisis</i>,” he snaps then, pushing his finger into Stiles’s chest, “And I have been talking to him!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't afford to keep my balance.

**Author's Note:**

> for the denial prompt on [this](http://rectiphobia.tumblr.com/post/24439431363/hawkwardeye-using-the-prompts-below-write-a).

Jackson’s fingers tighten on his locker door and it’s a struggle not to dent the metal, “Look, Stilin-”

 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Jackson, or I will beat your pretty face in with your locker door,” Stiles snaps back and Jackson blinks in his direction. “Look, I know you’re emotionally stunted or whatever,” and he even holds up a hand to stop Jackson from retorting, “But we’re the only people he has and the fact that you’re going through some stupid sexual identity crisis should not keep you from at least talking to him.”

A growl rumbles low in Jackson’s throat and he slams the locker shut, whirling around on Stiles, “I’m not having a…a _crisis_ ,” he snaps then, pushing his finger into Stiles’s chest, “And I have been talking to him!”

Stiles snorts and Jackson wants to hit him.

“You don’t even believe your own bullshit.”

Jackson whirls around and feels like running. 

“Jesus, Jackson,” Stiles mutters and then he’s gone.

When even Stiles, _Stiles_ , is exasperated, he’s fucked up somewhere. “Hey, Isaac,” he mumbles and, wow, his shoes are completely fascinating.

There’s a soft huff and he’s being led down the hallway and a hand wrapped around his upper arm, “You’re impossible,” Isaac mutters softly near his ear as he leads Jackson into a bathroom.

Jackson stands by the door and feels sort of like running as he watches Isaac check the room for other people. He’s never been the type to shy away from people, but a lot has changed lately, and he does just that when Isaac comes his way to lock the door.

“Look, Jacks, I know,” Isaac starts, pausing to look away, focusing on something that Jackson doesn’t see, “I know a lot of stuff is changing and there’s already a lot of new stuff on your plate, but…”

There’s a pause and Jackson wants to say something, anything, to wipe that look off Isaac’s face, the one he hasn’t seen since Isaac was first turned, “Look, Isaac, I’m not - I don’t -”

Way to make it worse, Whittemore.

Isaac shakes his head and holds a hand up, “I know,” he mumbles softly, dejectedly.

Taking a step forward, Jackson wraps his fingers around Isaac’s wrist, just lets them rest there, feeling his pulse thud under the skin, “I’m sorry,” he pleads softly, eyebrows drawing together.

“Me too, Jacks,” and Jackson has never actually felt like this much of an asshole.

He opens his mouth, wants to say something, wants to make things better but Isaac just shakes his head, pressing his lips briefly to Jackson’s and then he’s gone and Jackson is left staring at the wall, unsure of how things managed to take such a drastic turn.


End file.
